


Soldier: 76/CisFReader

by Sinderlin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Impregnation, Marathon Sex, Pregnancy, canon x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinderlin/pseuds/Sinderlin
Summary: it only took me a fuckin month to finish this fic. enjoy :* big thanks to @rawbiredbest for being my beta <3im the worst at titles, i been doin mostly drabbles n interactive writing, and im a trainwreck as always... how yall doin





	Soldier: 76/CisFReader

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Jack asks, fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepening alongside the furrow of his brow. His rough hands creep up your hips, one thumb dipping under the edge of your blouse, rubbing bare skin. When you nod, he heaves a deep sigh of relief and smiles softly, the worried wrinkles smoothing slightly. The first kiss is chaste, short, dry.

Every other time the both of you had fucked, you’d been on birth control and  _ still  _ had to use a heavy-duty condom. Something about the human experimentation he underwent made, uh,  _ everything  _ about him stronger. Just an inconvenient, unintended side effect, sure, but the sudden, insane potency seemed like a real slap in the face to a man who had hoped to eventually settle down and make a family only to be forced on the run for half of his life.

Now, though...Now he finally has time for love. The second kiss is slower, wetter, his breath humid against your lips. Now that you both have a house and the money, all that’s left is this. His hands tremble with a mix of eagerness and vulnerability. Finally, finally he gets to have a family with the one he loves, but will he even be a good father? You know he will be, you’ve told him so a million times, but PTSD’s a bitch. What matters is that you know he’s not some killing machine, and that he trusts you. It doesn’t hurt that he’s seeing a professional about it, at your instentence.)

“Hey, hey,” you murmur to him, touching his hand and interrupting him before he can slip into the old, tired self-hate routine of talking himself out of everything he so desperately wants, “You’re going to be an amazing dad. Are  _ you  _ ready for this?” Staring up into his sky-blue eyes, you see him work through a myriad of emotions before steeling his resolve.

“Never been more ready for anything in my life,” he murmurs as he dips back in to steal your breath away. One hand cradles the small of your back as he nudges you toward the bed, the other trailing higher and higher as he drags your lip between his teeth. He jolts when you clap your hands onto his ass,  interrupting the kiss to give you a warning look.

“What? I’m going to be grabbing it later anyway,” you tease. Jack rolls his eyes, but his cheeks flush a shade darker. Fingers sweep over the plane of your rib-cage and brush the underwire of your bra, asking for permission with the hesitant motion. The groan he gives when you push your chest down into his palm is music to your ears, gravelly and low and rough and almost a purr.

Jack resumes the kissing as he palms your chest, rubbing his thumb over the slight bump of your nipple through the padding. Even though you can feel his erection prodding your lower stomach, he refuses to rush. He just tugs your lip between his teeth whenever you try to pull him along any faster, snorting at your impatience. It’s like a miracle when the backs of your knees finally hit the edge of the bed, Jack lowering you down with the hand at the small of your back.

“I’m going to make this good for you,” he breathes, giving you one last peck before pushing your top and bra up to your armpits. Hot, moist air ghosts over your skin; you know what he’s going for, and shudder as you thread your fingers into his pale hair. One kiss lands directly on your bare nipple, and then it’s engulfed in wet heat that sends little electric shocks up your spine.

A rough suck plumps it, nerve endings lighting up as he follows with tongue and teeth, both hands now massaging your breasts. Just when your nipple starts going achy-numb from the excess attention, he switches to the other, like he  _ knows _ . Sandpapery stubble scrapes your sternum as he moves ever further down, his hands leaving your breasts to wander down your sides and curl into your waistband.

The room’s air is cold against your bare crotch, but only for a second. Your pants aren’t even past your knees before humid breath warms you again, puppy-eager and slightly desperate. Kicking your pants off to speed things along, you spread your legs and set your heels against the edge of the bed, offering up everything you have just inches from his face. He’s always been weak to that.

Two stubble-scratchy kisses trail up either thigh, followed by a softer, longer kiss to each labia, a longer, wetter kiss to your strawberry-red clit, and finally...he slides the full length of his tongue against your needy hole, the tip curling into the rim lightly with each lap. The bed creaks as he settles in on his forearms, floor thudding under his knees. Warmth radiates from his hands as he grabs your hips, the slightest twinge of pain from the occasional dig of his nails keeping you from wrapping a leg around his head and riding his face to heaven.

Jack glances up at you with mischief in his eyes and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clit again. Then he fastens his lips on and sucks. It’s gentle and rhythmic to start, almost like he’s following the beat of your heart, but it quickly ramps up alongside your pulse until the muscles in your thighs are jumping at the borderline pain. No matter how embarrassing it is, you let every moan and squeak leak out: he’d stop if you didn’t.

 

“Good girl,” he croons, the only break you’ll be getting from his mouth until he’s satisfied with your  _ preparation _ . One of his hands disappears from your hip, reappearing to massage his fingertips into your labia and the very edge of your hole, testing and teasing. You bite your lip in anticipation as one digit starts to sink inside you, then two, spreading to gauge your stretch. They press further, his fingers vanishing into you up to the knuckle, checking how deep you’ve opened up. Feeling whether or not you can take him yet.

 

He pulls off your clit with a soft pop, licking his lips and curling his fingers in a way that makes you tremble. Sensing your surging pleasure, his wrist curls and rocks his fingers into your front wall, searching out the plump gland that makes you see stars. With a little more coaxing, he gets a third finger into you and  _ spreads  _ them. Looking up at you with soft, half-closed eyes, lips parted in an easy smile, he’s resting one rough cheek on your thigh while thoroughly massaging your g-spot.

 

“Dammit, Jack…” you groan, wiggling in spite of his nails digging into your hip in a bid to get that delicious pressure further in, “Just fuck me already!” Thank god he obliges, pulling his fingers free with a slurp and wiping them on the sheets. He pushes you just far enough up the bed to get one knee up on the mattress and chews on his lip as he guides himself between your sopping lips. The second his bare glans rubs between your labia, you might as well already be as good as pregnant, but there is  _ no way _ either of you plan on stopping now. 

 

Lips going white where his teeth sink in as he enters you bare for the first time, Jack huffs through his nose and furrows his brows. His whole body trembles against you-he’s holding back, keeping it slow to start in spite of his eagerness. Inch after inch slides in, smooth as silk, spreading your walls with his firm heat until the sharp jut of his hips hit the backs of your thighs. It’s almost annoying, how gentle he’s being. Still, he’s secretly a hopeless romantic and always has to build up to the rough stuff.

 

Letting out the lungful of breath he’d been holding in, he runs his fingers through your warm hair and gently rocks against you. You can’t even feel the movement beyond the flex of his muscles behind your thighs at first, but he pulls out further and further each time, working an inch, two inches, three in and out of you in agonizingly slow thrusts, until he’s almost pulling all the way out and feeding all six inches back in with a choked-off groan. As much as you want to chastise him for not letting you hear his pleasure, you know that he’ll be plenty loud  _ later _ . The best part is watching him lose control. 

 

He builds up a steady rhythm of long, strong thrusts, dipping down to steal wet, open-mouthed kisses between breaths as heat builds between you. By the way his balls are starting to softly slap against your ass and the way he can’t bite back the little grunts each time he bottoms out inside you, you can tell he’s ready to kick it up a notch. All he needs is a little push.

 

“C’mon, big boy, is that all you got?” you tease, grinning toothily and draping your arms around his neck. When he fails to rise to the bait, you decide to get demanding. Digging your nails into his back, you lick your lips and narrow your eyes. “Let me ride you if that’s the best you can do.”

 

“You want it hard?” Jack snorts, “Fine. Have it your way.” Immediately, he switches to punishing thrusts that have you squeaking and moaning unabashedly, driving his glans into your front wall with every shove of his hips. In short order he’s got your eyes watering and your loins burning, lube and natural slick squelching even though you’ve just started. To make matters worse, he seems intent on finishing this as soon as you’ve started: He brings his thumb up to his mouth and gives it a good, wet lick before shoving his hand right back between your legs and grinding the calloused pad of his thumb against your already-plump clit.

 

“Whoawhoawhoa, not yet, not yet,” you babble, yanking at the short hairs at the back of his neck, “I thought we were gonna-gonna make it last!” He grunts and winces at the pain, but continues to thrust deep and rub over and over your tender red hood.

 

“What, you only got enough in you for one round?” he teases, icy blue eyes glinting in the low light, “And-nngh-you were just threatening to ride me.” He shudders when you clamp down on him in a wave of lust brought on by his ministrations, mouth falling open in a stifled sigh of a moan. Once you relax and ease the deathgrip on the back of his neck, he gives you a winning smile and a good hard rub that sends nearly painful sparks of pleasure up your spine. 

 

Sweat beads at your temples as he picks up the pace, lighting up every nerve inside you as your clit throbs needily under his thumb. You can feel  _ his  _ pulse, too, in every heavy throb of his cock against your walls. One flick of his thumb rolls the hood of your clit up just enough to get a near-painful scrape of his callous over your bare clit, and the sheer overwhelming power of it is enough to send molten lava racing through every vein and short your brain out for a long moment. When you come back to yourself, Jack is grinning down at you.

 

Before you can even thank him for blowing your mind, he’s hiking your hips up and putting a knee to either side of your waist with a hungry look in his eyes. Still oversensitive, his sudden enthusiastic pounding is enough to set off aftershocks that make the muscles in your stomach flutter and your eyes roll back. Between the overwhelming pleasure-pain and the distracting way your mind keeps going blank, you can vaguely hear Jack grunting and gasping as he enjoys the tight heat of your body.

 

It takes serious concentration to break out of your daze, but it’s worth the effort to see your lover staring at you with glazed, desperate eyes, red-cheeked and sweaty, tongue peeking out between his lip and teeth. His hair’s an absolute mess, a drop of drool is shining on his chin, and the muscles in his jaw jump with every thrust. Even the stubble on his neck is dewy with sweat, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp of drool. You briefly consider bringing up the possibility of making a home movie next time.

 

Jack almost looks like he’s in pain when he cums, brows pinched and jaw clenched, but the throbbing in your cunt and the sweet groan low in his chest tells you that he’s  _ loving  _ this. His balls feel burning-hot against your ass as they draw tight, then unload. Filling you with two long, wet pulses, he buries his face in your neck and moans wordlessly, hips finally going still. Even once he’s finished, he continues making soft, pleased noises, tilting his hips back and forth just to enjoy the feeling of being inside your sloppy hole.

 

“Love you,” he grunts before mashing his lips to yours in a clumsy display of affection, all but collapsing on top of you with a grin pasted across his face. Not a moment later, he’s huffing as he shuffles you up the bed knee by knee, picking you up to carefully lay you into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed like some diamond on display. Without a word, he snags one from the pile and shoves it under your hips. Finally, he hooks your legs over his shoulders and tilts his head. “How many more do you think you can take?”

 

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” you laugh breathily, “Because I could go allll day long.” He laughs. You’re exaggerating and you both know it; plus, he can  _ literally  _ go all day.

 

\---

 

Four hours and six orgasms later(two wholly internal, four clitoral), you’re a cross-eyed drooling mess and he’s only four orgasms deep. You don’t know how much more of this you can stand, but at least he feels just as sweaty and heated as you. His fingers slip when he tries to get a steady hold on your thighs, your ankles slipping through the sweat on his shoulders. Crossing your ankles behind his neck, you help him get enough traction to press into your guts one last time.

 

He’d promised he’d never make you endure more than seven, but your eyes hurt and you can’t form the words to tell him that you’re not sure if you want to keep going. His fingers slip in the sweat covering your thighs each time he tries to hike your legs higher for a deeper thrust, but he doesn’t give up. Foamy cum whipped up by the frenzied clash of your hips squeezes between your cheeks, past your tailbone, and up your back as he continues to work his half-hard length into you, obviously not thinking of the horrible cumstains in the sheet’s you’ll make him scrub out later.

 

Jack’s jaw creaks as he clenches his teeth in concentration, working himself into you until he firms up again, veins in his neck jumping as he squeezes his eyes closed. His fingers slip back between your legs, teasing the hypersensitive tip of your clit with the lightest of caresses between harsh slams of his hips into yours. It’s so overwhelming that all you can do is yank at the short hairs at the back of his neck and curl your toes, moaning weakly as he forces another climax out of you.

 

He almost sounds hurt when his balls draw up and fill you for the last time, whimpering as his hips tremble and he buries his face in your neck. Even once he’s finished he doesn’t move, huffing softly against your skin. You’re sure he feels the same as you, laying silently in the afterglow: overheated, dizzy, exhausted, a little nauseous, but glad. His rough fingers comb through your hair comfortingly.

 

“Aftercare time,” he announces, prying himself away just long enough to grab a waterbottle from under the bed, cracking it and tipping it to your lips. Cool water shocks you from the warm daze of his embrace, just enough to bring you back to yourself. He takes a long sip when you’re finished with it and rolls over so that you can rest on his chest instead of being crushed under his weight. After a moment, he looks down at you and smirks. “I’m impressed you managed to keep up.”

 

“Says you, old man,” you laugh, then pet through his white hair when he frowns, “I’m kidding! Besides,” you continue, tactfully changing the subject, “after all that, I feel like I’m already pregnant.” Cum squishes out of you with each pat you give your belly, emphasizing your point. He eventually relents and pulls you into a tight embrace, sighing happily, secretly already considering whether he wants a second kid.


End file.
